Fifty Ways to Say
by Reminiscent
Summary: Ever wanted to say 'I Love You,' but just couldn't spit out those stupid three words? This one's for you. Akuroku main. MANY side pairings.
1. Beauty

**Inspi'Song: _Beauty in the Breakdown _**by **The Scene Aesthetic**

That's right. There's another one.

With **Eight Weeks** just about finished, my muse said unto me, "MAKE ANOTHER ONE, GOD DAMMIT!"

I'm a slave to my muse. :3

_**Disclaimer: **_The fifty different ways are from various sites on the net.

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Trust Not in **Beauty

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**

_**Way #47:** "I had the weirdest dream last night: I was waking up just as dawn was breaking, _

_but instead of the sun rising on the horizon, it was your glowing face. _

_You were smiling and glowing and it felt too good. _

_Isn't that just strange? I have NO idea what that means. Pass the ketchup."_

**

* * *

**Maybe it was the egoistic upturn of mouth corners. Maybe it was the rakish combination of acidic emerald eyes and flaming red hair. Maybe it was the temperature of his skin (scalding hot), or the way his jeans always slung low on his hips (sexy as those hips were), or the dexterity of his fingers (like individual dancers on his body), or the flexibility of his tongue (pierced twice, and, shit, did that feel good where it mattered).

Or maybe it was just Roxas, with his over-sensitive senses, all attacked at the same time by this young god; with his little cries that only fed the fire to this man's intentions—intentions that included Roxas screaming his name as he was thrust up against any flat, stable surface. He was an awful, cruel man, ready to lie whenever he needed the blond in his bed, whispering false promises of devotion and—what stung the most—_love_ as he brought Roxas to his knees.

It didn't matter that Roxas hated the redheaded demon with every cell in his being, nor that he'd found everything he'd believed about his tempter to be a wounding deception. It didn't matter, because all the acid-eyed devil had to do was curl two fingers inward, beckoning, a breathed, "Come to me," and all of the boy's defenses fell in a humiliating display of submission.

And when _come to me_ morphed into _cum for me_, Roxas was helpless but to let his head fall back, mouth wide in a silent cry, eyes open as tears escaped them, and comply.

Yes, maybe Roxas knew better than to trust his self to this monster, but that didn't stop the monster from claiming his body again and again. He would try to run, try to break from this man's hold, but he always ended stumbling back to his keeper.

* * *

Where're you going, beautiful?" Roxas slipped into his boxers, pressure building behind his eyes as he tried to wipe himself clean, knowing well that he'd never be clean. He'd let himself be defiled. His body was practically no longer his by now.

"I'm getting out of here," Roxas said firmly, "I can't stand a second longer near you." He heard the bed shift, and then there was that mouth, and that damned tongue, creeping along his neck. Then, in his ear:

"Wasn't it just a minute ago that you said you couldn't stand a second longer without me inside you?" A chill ran up Roxas's spine, and his shiver shook a tear loose. His pants had been half-way up his legs, but now they were pushed back down with his underwear.

"Come on, gorgeous," came that voice again, low and sensuous, "I want to see that face you make—the one where you _scream_ my name." There was a hand wrapped around his growing arousal, and Roxas bit his lip to keep from giving his torturer what he wanted.

"Let's hear it, pretty."

"Fuck, Ax—"

"That's it. It's been a while since I've heard my name from your mouth."

"St-stop!"

"That isn't it, either."

* * *

At some point, Roxas had heard some old woman telling him, 'Trust not in beauty.' God damn, he should have listened, because there was one hell of a beauty pounding him into the floor, "_Just like the cock-sucking bitch you are_," and with those words, fucked him straight over the edge.

"Say it." Stars burst, and he couldn't do a thing to stop himself.

"Axel!" he was crying, "Axel!"

"There we are, like a good little whore." Then he continued using the blond mercilessly.

Yeah, it most likely would have been a good idea to have listened.

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**Video blog, Twitter, you know the drill. See account for details.**

Standard disclaimers apply.


	2. Love

**_Inspi'Song: Earthquake _**by **The Used**

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**Love** is No Desire

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_**Way #32: **"If you were a handful of genital crabs, _

_I'd never change my underwear."_

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Demyx had noticed a difference in his friend's behavior. Less 'house calls', more brooding, longer showers—Demyx knew these symptoms, however long ago it had been since the last time they'd appeared. Someone had wormed their way under his skin, the dirty blond-haired man knew it, and after watching his roommate mope through narrowed marine-colored eyes, Demyx decided he'd had enough.

"Who is it?" he asked over lasagna and salad in the calm of evening. When the other male attempted to change the subject, Demyx scoffed. "Come off it, Axel, I'm not blind. I know what it means when I'm stuck with cold water, and the heater isn't broken." Axel was quiet for a minute as Demyx patiently chewed on his lettuce.

"I don't want to want him, Dem.," the redhead finally murmured, "He's supposed to want me, and I'm supposed to not give a flying fuck." He poked at the meat sauce leaking from between melted cheese and pasta sheets miserably. "It's all backwards. He tries to leave me when we're done and I pull him back before I can stop myself because I don't want to watch him go."

"It's been a while, Ax," Demyx replied, "Of course you don't want it. Especially after—"

"I don't want to fucking hear about it," Axel cut him off, sharp green eyes fixed on his fork, stabbing into the soft clusters of ground beef repeatedly, "There's no way I'd let it turn out like that. He's just some kid, anyways." Another particularly vicious stab. "There's nothing special about him."

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing."

"He sounds pretty special to me."

"He's nothing!" Demyx fell silent as Axel slammed his hands down onto the table and rose, his chair clattering to the linoleum. Without another word, he grabbed his coat and keys and all but fled from the loft. Demyx stared at the door.

Less 'house calls', more brooding, longer showers, and abrupt outbursts of emotion.

Well. It sure sounded like love to him.

* * *

"Axel? In love? No fucking way." Demyx chewed on a fingernail before answering.

"He is! There've been long showers!" he insisted. The platinum blonde sitting across the table from him raised an eyebrow.

"So it's that bad, huh?" she muttered, sipping at her Styrofoam cup. "It's been a while."

"I know; that's what I said!" Demyx agreed, "You're his sister, Larx, his own flesh and blood. You've got to help me out."

"With what? I think it's better just to leave it. We can't let him suck himself down again."

"But, Larxene…"

"Listen, kid," Larxene said evenly, "I get that you care about Axel, but you're leaving a huge factor out of the equation. More than one, actually."

"And what's that?"

"First off," Demyx's visitor began, "He's a whore. He has sex for money, and not because he need the cash, but because he wants to. Secondly, he became a whore just because he wanted to forget—"

"Yeah, I know that part," Demyx said sadly.

"Thirdly, by offering your assistance in nabbing this elusive, Mopey-Axel incurring bitch, you're killing my brother's pride. Not just as a whore, Demyx, but as a man. If he wants this guy's ass bad enough, he'll get it."

"But the showers…"

"Yeah, the showers _are_ serious." She sipped thoughtfully at the coffee in her hands. "Let's figure out who the bitch is first."

"Sounds like a plan. I knew you'd come around."

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**Video blog, Twitter, you know the drill. See account for details.**

Standard disclaimers apply.


	3. Fear

**Inspi'Song: _Falling Asleep On a Stranger _**by **Pierce the Veil**

And my muse said unto me, "MAKE ANOTHER ONE, GOD DAMMIT!"

I'm a slave to my muse. :3

_**Disclaimer: **_The fifty different ways are from various sites on the net.

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Allow Your **Fear

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**

_**Way #6:** "The other day I saw this little girl,_

_and she drops her whole ice cream cone on the ground and starts bawling. _

_After I stopped laughing, I thought, _

_"I'm the same way when you don't call when you say you will."_

**

* * *

**

Larxene dropped her bag on the floor and her keys in the dish before making her way up the stairs into the kitchen.

A young woman stood at the stove, glancing up at a cookbook once in a while as she slid a baking dish into the oven and turned down the heat on a boiling pot.

"Welcome home," she called over her shoulder, flicking yellow hair out of her mouth and away from her face. "Where've you been all afternoon?"

"Over at the lofts, talking with Demyx," Larxene answered, selecting a wine cooler from the refrigerator.

"Isn't it a bit early for drinks?"

"It's past five, Naminé." Naminé frowned.

"What did Demyx have to say?" she wondered.

"Axel's been taking long showers lately."

"Oh, no," Naminé gasped, untying her apron and settling at the counter beside Larxene. "Was he there?"

"No, Demyx said he'd been out since last night." Larxene took a swig from her bottle. "We decided we were going to find out who exactly it is that's got Axel all strung out again."

"And just when he was about healed," Naminé said. "His poor heart isn't ready for someone new."

"You're telling me."

"So what's your plan of action?"

"Well," Larxene started, sending Naminé a sidelong look, "I was kind of hoping you'd help."

"I don't follow."

"You know, that one friend you've got, the PI?"

"You mean _Zexion?_ I can't possibly ask..."

"Why not?"

"He's kind of a friend of a friend's friend of a friend, Larx; I don't really know him."

"And you won't do it? For Axel? For me?" Naminé chewed on her bottom lip worriedly, and then slumped in her chair.

"I just don't want Axel to break like that again. Not when he's become his old self...not ever." She tapped her chin with a finger. "Zexion won't do anything without a price. Not for anyone, except..." Larxene grimmaced.

"Oh, yeah. I heard about that. Yeesh. What a nightmare, that guy," she said, shuddering. Naminé shook her head at Larxene's disgust.

"It's not like he has a choice. We--we all know what Xemnas is capable of if he doesn't get what he wants. We all know what he's like." Naminé shivered a little. "We'll have to be careful, though, so that he doesn't get wind of Axel, or any of us." Larxene nodded in agreement.

"He warned us, Nam, remember? He warned every damn one of us when we joined," she said gravely.

"You can never leave the Organization," Naminé whispered, "Can never run, never hide." She exhaled shakily. Larxene ran a hand gingerly through her hair.

"Whatever. If this Zexion guy's any good at his job, Xemnas will never know about this." She grabbed her drink and headed to the living room. "Sorry I brought it up. You were pretty cheery until then." Naminé sighed after her and checked the hotdish in the oven absently.

She wanted to help Axel, but the Superior made it hard for her to do anything other than continue to act as a dutiful housewife. She would call the investigator and work something out, but at the same time, Naminé was nervous. Zexion was part of the higher echelon of the Organization, and although that put him in the better graces of the Superior, it also made him easier to surveil.

_Always watching_, Naminé thought to herself, _The Superior is always watching._

* * *

**Video blog, Twitter, you know the drill. See account for details.**

Standard disclaimers apply.


	4. Death

And my muse said unto me, "MAKE ANOTHER ONE, GOD DAMMIT!"

I'm a slave to my muse. :3

_**Disclaimer:**_The fifty different ways are from various sites on the net.

**Sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER. I'm homeless right now, so I just use the computer to whose-ever house I drift into. Hopefully, I'll be able to sneak back into my house and update the video blog, too, but that might be pushing my luck...**

**Enjoy.

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**

A More Peaceful **Death

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**

_**Way #44:**__"Not only would I die for you,_

_I'd bitch slap Satan a good one, too."

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_

"His name is Roxas Daed," Zexion said with finality, tossing a stack of photos and a file down on Demyx's table. Larxene flipped open the manila folder as Demyx and Naminé sported through the pictures.

"He's blond?" Demyx said incredulously.

"He's underage?" Larxene choked out.

"I'm just surprised at the resemblance, but the underage part is quite a shock," Naminé said.

"Resemblance?" Zexion wondered.

"To the guy Axel was last with," Larxene explained.

"What happened?" The three blonds exchanged glances.

"He died," Demyx said softly. "Axel was never the same."

"Understandably so."

"Yeah, well, the circumstances were a bit different in their case," Larxene grumbled.

"How so?"

"It doesn't matter," Naminé cut in. She smiled disarmingly at Zexion. "You have our gratitude for all of this information." She handed the investigator an envelope. "Here are your earnings. Thank you."

* * *

Zexion combed his fingers along his scalp, slate hair dipping over his face, as he entered his apartment. He flicked on the lights as he set his briefcase down on a chair and checked his voice mails.

"_Becky's Pub_," came the voice Zexion knew to be Xaldin's, "_Nine o' clock, drinks on Vexen._"

"_**I allowed no such thing!**_**"**he heard Vexen, indignantly cry as Xaldin hung up.

"_Good evening, VI,_" began the next message, "_This is a reminder of your meeting with the Superior tomorrow morning. You will be at his door by seven sharp. If not, you will be…hearing…from the Organization_." Zexion rolled his eyes at Saïx's attempt to sound menacing. "Punctuality is required."

The next message started quietly, and Zexion nearly deleted it, thinking it to be silent, until a young woman's voice tentatively filtered through.

"_Hi, this is Naminé Portmon. I know you were here only a minute ago, but I just wanted to ask you a question._" A pause, then…

"_Have you ever heard the name Sora Kingley before?_" The woman's voice recording told Zexion that Naminé's had been the final voice mail, but he rewound the message, just to make sure.

"_—the name __**Sora Kingley **__before?_"

* * *

Becky's Pub was as loud and crowded as ever, but it didn't take long for Zexion to find his group, rowdy as they were. He sat between Lexaeus and Vexen, who appeared to be extremely displeased. Lexaeus laughed.

"Xaldin and Xigbar have been drinking away his munny since we got here," the giant explained, chuckling.

"That, and spending it on _how_ many women?" Vexen added, enraged.

"The ladies think his eye patch is roguishly charming," Xaldin said, taking a seat beside Lexaeus. "I'll have two Miller's, a cherry spritzer, and a pomegranate Mike's Hard," he ran off to the bartender.

"Throw in a Molester, would you?" Xigbar requested, collapsing over Vexen's shoulders.

"That costs two hundred munny!"

"Yeah, ain't it grand? Snap to it, sweetheart." Vexen frowned ferociously.

"I'd like one Xigbar: drawn, quartered, and castrated," he ground out to the poor girl behind the counter.

"But…that's not a drink, sir…"

"It is now!"

"W-what is it made of…" Xaldin leaned in and captured a fly-away strand of hair on the girl."

"Why don't you surprise us?" he said suggestively. The bartender blushed heavily. Xigbar laughed loudly, Vexen scratched at him, left eye twitching, and Xaldin continued to make love to the woman across from them with his eyes alone. Lexaeus took his Miller and eyed Zexion suspiciously.

"You haven't said a word since you arrived," he observed, "What's up?" Zexion took a deep swig of the spritzer, coughed a little, and lowered his voice.

"Sora Kingley." The other four men froze instantly.

"Say what?" Xigbar asked.

"Someone called about him," Zexion replied, "Wondered if I'd ever heard of him."

"Wondered if you—" Vexen sputtered, "He's the reason why you were checked into Memorial for so long!"

"There are cases you don't have to take, Zex," Xigbar agreed. "Turn it down."

"Sora Kingley," Xalding grunted, releasing the girl's face, "Never thought I'd hear that name again."

"We all did," Lexaeus said, "Who was asking?"

"My very job title demands the privacy of my clients, so I can't say, but it's all Organization related...I looked up my clients, and...every single one of them are, or have been, part of Organization XIII."

"An uprising?" Vexen offered.

"No, just curiosity." Zexion crunched down on an ice cube. "It's times like these I resent the fact that not one Organization member knows all thirteen of us."

"Here here," Xaldin concurred, raising his glass.

"Still, to bring up that name...it's like bringing him back from the grave," Lexaeus said.

"They say those in Halloween Town see his spirit, man," Xigbar muttered, "And you know everyone there are fucking psychics; even the kids. Maybe...maybe he's not done yet."

"Don't be ridiculous," Zexion shot back. "We all saw what was left of that boy when it was said and over with."

"Not a pretty sight," Xaldin said softly, "Saw it when I closed my eyes for weeks."

"Made a right mess out of our plans, he did," Vexen complained. "Even today, every now and then, I can't help but be curious--who in their right mind would put themselves through...through what he did?"

"Maybe he wasn't in the right mind," Xigbar replied.

"I think he was looking for a more peaceful death." All eyes, save Lexaeus's, were fixed on Zexion.

"The way he went was anything _but_ peaceful, Zex, bud," Xigbar said, adjusting his eye patch a little. "Dunno if you're thinking the same Sora."

"I thought about it the entire time I spent in Memorial. Sora Kingley was so tortured by that point already, his mind in such excruciating agony, that he was looking for an escape--any escape. His purpose, the thing that drove him, was bigger than he ever could have been...he wanted out. The way I see it, he knew he would die either way. He only chose what was more simple, cleaner," Zexion explained.

"Although his demise was anything but simple and clean," Vexen chuckled, though mirthlessly. "How would it have ended, had he completed the job?"

"Brutally," Lexaeus said, drowning the rest of his drink. "Cruelly." He stood and pressed a few munny notes into Vexen's hands. "Heartlessly." With that, he nodded to his companions and left.

"What was eating him?" Xigbar muttered.

"Heartlessly, huh," Xaldin whistled lowly. "Got that damn straight." He grabbed at the bartender as she passed, a sudden smile sliding onto his face. "Hey, where's that Xigbar? You know, the drawn and quartered one? I'm curious to see how it turned out."

* * *

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Standard disclaimers apply.


	5. Create

**Inspi'song: _There's A Heartache Following Me _**by: **Pete Townshend**_**

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**_

To **Create** Him

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_**Way #19: **"You had me at, "Stop following me."

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_

Nights with Axel always left Roxas drained. The redhead was insatiable, his stamina endless, and by the end of their meetings, Roxas would find himself hollow and numb. Axel took everything out of him, sucked the life out of his being until nothing remained.

A pale arm was slung over the dip of his side, hand possessively laid on his rear, pulling his hips closer to the warm body beside him. Those eyes that held Roxas captive so easily were closed, and the blond watched them flicker open. They were different this time, as if Axel had expected to see someone else's face, or as if he didn't know where he was.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Roxas answered.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Can I leave now?"

"What time is it?"

"Three fifteen. Hand me my pants, would you?"

"I'm sorry."

"They're over th—what did you say?" Axel propped his head on one hand while the other pulled the confused teenager closer to him yet.

"I'm sorry he repeated, deliberately.

"For what?" Roxas asked.

"You said you were sore." Roxas scoffed.

"That's all?"

"What do you mean?" Blue eyes narrowed angrily at the older man.

"Never mind." He was out of the bed swiftly, the sheets clinging to him briefly by the sweat lingering on his skin. He found his underwear easily and went in search of his shirt as Axel sat up and watched him sadly.

"You can't leave me," he said.

"And why the hell shouldn't I?"

"Because I need you."

"Oh, that's rich." Roxas yanked his jeans on. "The first time, the very first time we did this, you didn't even ask, didn't even—and in an ally, no fucking less, where people could have—and I said stop, but you didn't, you didn't—"

"There's a lot of things you didn't do, either, Roxas." Axel watched the boy freeze, his shirt barely over his head. "You didn't stay away. You didn't say no, you never did. For a while, you didn't care."

"You didn't tell me your real name."

"You didn't tell me your real age."

"That didn't stop you."

"Neither did the alias." Axel frowned. "Face it, Rox, you and me, this whole thing we've got, it's all made of shit we didn't do." Roxas tensed when a naked body pushed itself against his back, fingers reaching around and pulling the shirt down over his body before zipping and buttoning his pants. "Now I can say that I did apologize. What did you do?" A grind against his posterior and a growl in his ear. "Tell me."

"I gave you everything," Roxas said venomously.

"What else?"

"I told you the truth."

"And?" He wasn't going to win this, Roxas realized, he couldn't. Axel had too strong a hold over him already; it wasn't fair, the things he made him do, _want_…

"What do you want from me, Axel?" he whispered, staring at the hands still grasping his hips.

"Roxas," came the answer, "Roxas is all I want, all I need, and I will stop at nothing—" Another quick swivel against him. "—until I've obtained that."

"And what do I get?" Roxas asked.

"Me, of course," Axel breathed huskily into his ear, "All to yourself, and then we can turn whatever this is into something real. How about that, Rox? Isn't that what you've wanted all along?" He threw the blond onto the bed abruptly, crawling onto him, a naked creature of sin and hellfire. "It is, I know it is, and I could strip you right now, fuck you senseless, and you wouldn't stop me, because it was what you wanted." He licked along the shell of Roxas's ear. "Even the first time, you wanted it. I doubt there's even a reason in that pretty head of yours for me _not_ to fuck you." And just as Axel was readying to relieve his newly revived erection, he heard that voice, small and soft.

"—you'd stop anyways."

"What did you say?" Then he had an armful of a very angry teenager, whose electric eyes were red and watery.

"I said it's not like you'd stop anyways!" the boy shouted. "Isn't that reason enough, when I tell you to stop? Why don't you ever stop?"

"I—"

"It's because of you that I'm not mine anymore, that I can't spend one night away from you without jacking off thinking of you, that I can't ever be good and clean again!" He choked and coughed, his voice dying down again. "I'm just a kid, Axel."

"_I'm just a kid, Axel."_

The stunned redhead backed off the bed, his eyes wide and limbs quivering.

"_I'm just a kid, Axel. Did you really think this would work?"_

"Get out," he commanded, shaking his head wildly, "Get the fuck out and don't bother coming back."

He hadn't thought that he would've listened, but when he looked over his shoulder, the kid was gone.

"_It's not like you didn't screw up, too."_

* * *

The walk home was shorter than he wanted it to be, but the only thing that divided up town from downtown was a river, and within fifteen minutes, Roxas had crossed the bridge and found himself on his own doorstep. His house wasn't large, but its modern appeal camouflaged it well within the neighborhood of river-sides and European-styles.

There was a Gummi parked outside on the driveway, and the door was unlocked when Roxas entered the foyer. He could hear humming in the kitchen, and the TeleCom was flickering five channels of reality shows and soaps in the den. Roxas kicked his board into its upright position, peeling off his jacket and toeing his shoes off.

"Roxas—is that you?" a male voice in the kitchen wondered. "Where were you?"

"Nowhere," Roxas replied.

"I'd feel better if you turned your Cell Com on."

"Sure you would, Sora." 


End file.
